


My Name Is

by sunset_moth



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunset_moth/pseuds/sunset_moth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Graduation. After the invasion of the Lorwardians, everything is finally looking up for Shego. Her old boss is working in a bakery in Go City and her new boss lets her kick GJ butt on a daily basis. So what's this about a Shego-sighting in South Asia? And where the hell is Kim Possible?</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Name Is

**Author's Note:**

> Partially inspired by the anime Noir.

**Chapter One - Shego**

Besides the Polaris, the rest of the stars twinkled dimly in the night sky, masked by the heavy light pollution of the overcrowded metropolis. From inside a police car moving past the city’s speed limits, a red-haired woman stared bleakly up at the sky, wondering if she could ever find her home under the guidance of that northern star.

The car jerked to a stop right in front of the police precinct—a building that looked like it needed renovating decades ago. The plants at either side of the main entrance were wilting and had to share their tiny homes with cigarette butts, bottle caps, empty coffee cups and other trash that their human guardians had thoughtlessly left behind. The paint was peeling and the walls were grimy, cracked and mouldy. Suffice to say, the police station was far from impressive.

The redhead yelped as she was roughly pulled from her seat by one of the policemen who had caught her earlier. She gave the young police officer a dark glare, unsettling the rookie who was unused to dealing with foreigners. His superior barked insults at him in a language she did not understood and pushed her towards the door. She was shuffled towards someone’s office—probably the chief of that area—and was forced to sit on one of the chairs facing the desk. She watched her captors in silence as they conversed with a small, plump elderly man with beady eyes and a greying moustache.

Unable to understand these men, her attention lapsed, and her thoughts turned inward. _Did I really kill him?_ She wondered, feeling her nausea come back. She didn’t remember a single thing, apart from waking up next to a man in some putrid alley, a gun conveniently besides her. She had tried to get up then, and ended up emptying the contents of her stomach on some nearby trash bin as the world spun around her.

She could feel the fat man’s lascivious gaze on her body and shivered involuntarily. _I didn’t kill him,_ she thought resolutely. _It doesn’t feel like the kind of thing that_ I _would do. Although,_ she glowered venomously at the police chief, _I’m quite tempted to go against my morals just this once._

“Where are you from, miss?” The chief inquired, his accent was thick but sufficiently understandable.

“I don’t know.” The redhead admitted, keeping her chin up. She would not show weakness to this man.

The three officers exchanged anxious looks as well as a few terse sentences. Again, the police chief turned to look at her and asked, “What is your name?”

The redhead tilted her head, a curious expression on her lovely face. “Shego,” she said finally. “My name is Shego.”

\---

“It’s nice to see you again, Shego,” Dr. Drakken, former super-villain and onetime saviour of the world, greeted his friend and former sidekick genially. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I didn’t think I’d come either,” Shego admitted, taking the seat opposite to Dr. Drakken. She looked around the fancy restaurant and arched an eyebrow. “This isn’t a date, is it? I can’t help but be suspicious when you mention ‘semi-formal’ and ‘restaurant’ in the same sentence.”

Dr. Drakken snorted. “Hardly. Think of this as—well, think of it as a gesture a father makes to a daughter he is quite fond of.”

“Glad I didn’t get any of your genes then,” Shego retorted dryly, though the edges of her lips did quirk in a slight smile. “So we’re just catching up, like you said? No ulterior motives this time?”

Dr. Drakken chuckled. “Caught blue-handed,” he admitted, spreading his hands mockingly. “I also want to reassure my handlers that I am not planning to take over the world any time soon. I am quite content in my little bakery in Go City.”

“Hah! And you’re doing this by meeting up with your old, _evil_ sidekick?”

“Who better to talk to, than one of Global Justice’s combat instructors?” Dr. Drakken taunted.

“Oh, how far we’ve fallen, Dr. D,” Shego groused dramatically. “Why did you get a ding from your handlers anyway? You and I have been working on the good side for almost three years now since that incident. Surely those government dogs have better things to do than hound us?”

“They caught me coming out of a HenchCo Office last week,” Dr. Drakken complained. “Don’t they know that HenchCo is completely legitimate?”

“Depends on who’s defining legitimate now. Although, I have to ask; what _were_ you doing in HenchCo?”

“If you must know, I was hiring minions,” Dr. Drakken replied with as much dignity as he could muster. “I am used to working with henchmen, and since their contracts are flexible, I can hire them to do virtually _anything_ for me, which is exactly what I need in a bakery. Henchmen can be taught to bake delectable delights, fix machinery, communicate with costumers, and best of all, they can guard my bakery from would-be thieves!” Dr. Drakken sighed and shook his head. “I’m surprised the non-villainous population has yet to make good use of the Henchmen industry. Getting them in bulk is a bonus too!”

“That spiel would make a good commercial; I hope your handlers recorded it. It could be the next big thing.”

“Well, I _am_ a genius innovator. It’s what I do.”

“Right,” Shego agreed sardonically. “Because half the time, you weren’t _stealing_ other people’s works and turning them into doomsday devices.”

Dr. Drakken made an irritated noise with his throat and pouted. “If you must know, Shego, my genius lies in making the ordinary, _extraordinary_.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Dr. D,” Shego said lightly, examining her fingertips, “some of those inventions were already pretty _damn_ impressive. I think you just had a way with using them for evil. ‘Outsourcing,’ you’d call it.”

Dr. Drakken twiddled his thumbs together. “Well, as much as I would _love_ to take that as a compliment...”

“I get it, Dr. D. Your handlers are probably psychoanalyzing you as we speak.” Shego sighed and motioned for a waiter to take their orders. “If you slip up and make them think that you’re going ‘Dark Side’ again, they might convince our beloved government to withdraw your international pardon.”

“I am a changed man,” Dr. Drakken huffed sullenly. “But everyone is so paranoid and unforgiving.”

“Not everyone,” Shego reminded him, and turned to the waiter to order for both of them.

“Ah, yes, Kimberly Ann Possible—my arch-foe.” Dr. Drakken spoke solemnly, his eyes distant. He took a deep breath and sighed. “We shared a special relationship, she and I. We have fought so many times together that we have created a bond that is far stronger than titanium steel.”

“Uh-huh,” Shego agreed, amusement evident in her tone.

“Is that mocking I hear?”

“Uh-huh.”

Dr. Drakken slapped his forehead with his right palm. “Right—you always did love to do that.”

“This is actually pretty mild,” Shego admitted. “I suppose I’m in a good mood today.”

“Does my paying for this have anything to do with it?”

“A little.” Shego leaned forward and smiled fondly at her old boss. The man was an annoying moron at times, and his schemes were often more trouble than they were worth, but he had a good heart underneath that azure facade and the most amusing expressions whenever she managed to push one of his buttons. “Actually, I had a good work-out today. This year’s batch of GJ recruits was a lot more promising than before.”

“Oh? Did any of them make you work for your paycheck?”

“Not at all. But they’re not as pathetic as the previous bunch I’ve had to work with.”

“Perhaps a rematch with our arch-nemesis—I mean, with our _dear_ friend, Kim Possible—would raise your standards once more?”

“Are you implying that I’ve gotten soft, Dr. D?”

Her former boss chuckled and bit into his steak, medium rare. “Not at all. I’m just saying that given your lack of worthy adversaries, you’ve probably gotten bored and you just don’t know it yet. I bet you secretly _miss_ tangling with our mutual friend.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Shego said airily and waved her fork a bit. “I _bet_ you miss gloating at her.”

“Maybe a little.” Dr. Drakken’s expression turned serious. “But enough about Kim Possible. Shego, have you been in Asia recently?”

\---

Señor Senior, Sr. gazed gravely from his third floor balcony, his hands idly tracing the smooth surface of his marble railing. His fingers found the jagged etchings at the side of the railing: markings he had placed every single time he had been defeated by Kim Possible and her sidekick. _Sixty-three_ , he thought and balled his hand into a fist. Had he been foiled that many times already? He closed his eyes and turned his back from the grandiose view of expansive blue and intermingling hues of fiery red and vibrant violet. _The number would probably be higher if I were more active with my villainous plots. Ah, this old bones just aren’t what they used to be._

Once he could dare the sky with his devilish antics, race against the wind, freefall without care...but now? He was better at home, doing menial tasks that would not challenge his health. “Perhaps Stoppable is right,” he murmured to himself.

“Perhaps _who_ is right, Father?” His son, Junior, asked as he strutted towards his father, his eyes on the lightweight tablet he carried in one hand.

“Our foe’s sidekick,” Senior replied, giving his son an appraising look. “Maybe it is time for me to conquer the world without using traditional means.”

“Oh, I agree,” Junior said distractedly, leaning besides his father. “This whole ‘villainous laughter’ thing isn’t really working for me. Why can’t I chortle, Father? Or giggle?”

His father shot him a venomous glare and sniffed haughtily. “It just isn’t _proper_ , Junior.” He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Stoppable did suggest I should just _buy_ the entire world.”

“Even I can see that you would need a lot more money than that,” Junior replied dryly.

“With the right investments, it can be done,” Senior said confidently. “I think.”

“Hey, Father, look at this,” Junior chattered excitedly, playing with his tablet so that a hologram of it also appeared in front of them. “Former Super-Villain, Shego, was imprisoned in Las Serpientes a few days ago. Apparently, she killed some foreigner and doesn’t remember anything.”

“Las Serpientes? You mean that country that’s shaped like an eel?”

Junior rolled his eyes. “No, Father. It’s shaped like a _snake_. That’s why it’s called Las _Serpientes_.”

Señor Senior, Sr. made an irritated sound and grabbed the tablet from his son, angrily squinting at the screen. “Are you sure about this, Junior? Last I heard, she was working for Global Justice as a combat instructor. I very much doubt that she would go off to some third-world country just to kill someone, particularly when tourism there is low.”

Junior’s expression turned sullen. “Really? So they have no good beaches for tanning? Look, Father, they are near the equator.”

“You’re better off somewhere _cleaner_ , son.”

Junior pouted. “Then I guess it really doesn’t make sense for Shego to go to that country,” he grumbled. “No good beaches? Bah!”

“And it says here that she has red hair,” Senior added, snorting derisively. “Whoever this person is, she is but a mere imposter, Junior. She probably thinks using Shego’s name was going to give her some street credentials. How...distasteful of her.”

\---

_“Like I’d be caught dead going to a country like that,” Shego protested, waving an arm weakly. “Come on, Dr. Doofus, I thought you knew me better than that.”_

“Whoever she is, she’s just an imposter,” Shego reassured herself as she leaned against the elevator’s stainless steel handrail, making a conscious effort not to ignite her hands. “But damn that bitch, sullying my name like that. Normally I wouldn’t care but”—she glared at a white-collared man about to step in and pressed the close button—“ever since I got into this good guy business again, I have to tiptoe extra careful in international affairs and play nice like a good dog.”

She left the elevator and sauntered towards her apartment room, continuing to mutter darkly, “Not that I’d play dead for them, no matter what they say. If accusations fly at me tomorrow, I’ll just do what I do best: break a few heads.”

She paused as she stared at her doorknob which was hanging loosely from its place. “Oh, someone’s going to hell for this.” She slammed the door open and rushed inside, her hands igniting in barely restrained anger. The black-clad youth who was standing in the middle of her living room barely had time to react.

“Damn it, Shego,” a most familiar voice growled, as the intruder clumsily dodged her punches. “No need to be so aggressive.”

She turned her plasma off just as she managed to get a grip of the young man’s arms and slam him against her wall. “You? You’re Kimmie’s buffoon, aren’t you?” She increased the pressure on him. “What the hell are you doing breaking and entering in my damn apartment?”

“Can’t breathe,” Kim’s sidekick rasped, “I need oxygen.”

She abruptly let him go and eyed him as a lioness would eye a small mouse.

“You know, I’m really glad KP’s the one who usually deals with you,” Stoppable grumbled, pulling off the ninja mask he wore. The naked mole rat he often brought with him appeared from his pocket, muttering unintelligible curses at Shego.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shego demanded, her right hand flaring a second time.

“Whoa there! I-I mean no harm,” Stoppable stammered, taking a step back, his arms flying up in defence. “Don’t get all huffy on me.”

“I will if you don’t tell me what the hell you’re doing here!”

“I need your help!”

Shego lowered her fists. “Don’t you have Kimmie for that? Unlike the goody two-shoes, I don’t do favours for free.”

“You think I want to _ask_ for your help?” Stoppable sneered. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. “Deep breaths. Gotta stay calm.” Hazel eyes with flecks of gold stared back at Shego coldly. “Kim’s missing.”

“And what? Are you here to make accusations at me?” demanded Shego. “You probably know that she likes to send me the occasional e-mail, but that’s hardly—”

“I told you, Shego,” he spat, “I need your help.”

The older woman smirked. “Just making sure.” She sat on her couch, smoothing the lines of her slate gray pencil skirt. Crossing her legs, she beckoned for Stoppable to take the seat opposite hers. “So what exactly is it that you want, buffoon? I’m not a damn miracle worker. Nor am I stupid enough to go off on some wild goose chase without any solid leads. If you want me to go and find her, you’ll need to be more forthcoming.”

“Actually, we were hoping you could check your e-mail account,” Stoppable answered wearily, fidgeting on the chair opposite hers. “See, KP disappeared about two weeks ago. She was supposed to go to Japan for a semester, but according to Yori she never showed.”

“If she’s been missing for two weeks,” Shego spoke carefully, watching the sandy-haired sidekick suspiciously, “then how come I received an e-mail from her on Monday? That was five days ago.”

Stoppable’s eyes widened with excitement. “That’s it! Maybe the e-mail will tell us where she is.”

Shego raised an eyebrow in disbelief. She stood up and walked towards her study where her laptop lay on the antique, Neoclassical writing table she had acquired just recently and picked it up, turning it on as she headed back to the living room. Wordlessly she opened up the last message Kim had sent her: a close-up shot of hydrangea flowers, its petals a mix of light blue and darkening purple with traces of pink near the centre. Underneath, the young crime fighter simply wrote, “These flowers reminded me of you!”

“I guess her opinion of me hasn’t changed even after I swore off a life of crime,” Shego spoke softly. “I guess she still thinks I’m vain.”

“What?” Stoppable looked confused for a second. He gave the picture another moment’s scrutiny and brought out a smaller, more compact version of Kim’s Kimmunicator before it was turned into a watch. “Hey, Wade, I’m forwarding you Kim’s message now. See if you can find anything. Please and thank you.” He hastily closed the screen before the young super genius could interject. To Shego, he said, “What do you mean she thinks you’re vain?”

“Hydrangea,” Shego said simply. “Aren’t they supposed to symbolize vanity and boastfulness?” She snorted. “Although, I guess, considering my abilities, the boastfulness is warranted.”

Stoppable sniggered at the former super-villain’s wry admission. For once, he didn’t look like he wanted to trade insults with her; instead, his expression was gentler and more sober. “Don’t you know, Shego? The hydrangea’s meaning is ambiguous. Some believe that it symbolizes vanity because it’s beautiful—which you should take as a compliment—while others have interpreted the giving of hydrangeas as a way to convey sincere and heartfelt emotion.”

“Huh, really?” Shego didn’t look too convinced. “And what would this emotion be?”

Stoppable’s body tensed. “I think it’s best if KP tells you herself. It wouldn’t be right otherwise.”

“How do you know about this anyway? I didn’t think you were the type who studied the symbolism of different flowers. That’s the kind of crazy thing I’d expect more from my former employer—and only because he was hit with that weird flower power of his.”

Stoppable chuckled. “It was one of those weird things I learned from hanging out with kunoichi while vacationing in Japan.”

“Female ninjas?” Shego asked dryly. “I hope Kimmie wasn’t too jealous about that.”

Stoppable ignored her little jibe and turned on the Kimmunicator instead. “You get anything, Wade?”

“Yeah—about five minutes ago,” The boy genius answered dourly. “You know, you didn’t have to cut me off like that.”

“Sorry, Wade. I just had to clear up a few things with Miss Congeniality over there.” Stoppable quipped brightly. “So, is it like the others that she sent us?”

The young fifteen-year-old nodded. “We have coordinates this time—to a small East Asian country called Las Serpientes. Given that it’s close to Japan, it’s very likely that she’s in there.”

“Wait, wait,” Shego interjected, her hands making the signal for ‘time out’. “Can you rewind a bit and tell me how the hell you figured this out just by looking at some stupid picture Kimmie sent me?”

The two boys exchanged knowing looks. “We’ve developed an app that would let Kim send us messages in case she lost her Kimmunicator and had to use an unsecure line or server. To anyone else using it, the app’s just a way to share pictures online, but Kim can add an extra line of code to the program that would unlock its other features and let her embed a message within the picture. All I have to do is unscramble the image and decode the message.”

“If that was a little longer, I’d peg you for one of those mad scientist types.”

Stoppable shot her an annoyed look. “He was just explaining things.”

“Then explain this one thing to me, Stoppable,” Shego retorted. “Why all these security measures? I don’t remember Pumpkin being this paranoid.”

“That’s...a little hard to explain.”

Shego crossed her arms. “Try me.”


End file.
